


Idiot

by emesa



Category: Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:20:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23597497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emesa/pseuds/emesa
Summary: “You idiot!” I cried, jumping to my feet.  Charlie and Jane paused in their planning, watching us with worried frowns.  I barely noticed them.  William also stood, carefully putting his laptop on a side table, a confused wrinkle on his forehead.  “Idiot!”  I repeated, in case he didn’t hear it the first time.Or, the one where Darcy declares himself via Google docs.  Oneshot.
Kudos: 15





	Idiot

The wind shrieked as it blew past the window, making the curtains flutter. I shivered and pulled my sweater closer around me. Today was the kind of day that felt like December rather than October. Another chill ran through me as I pulled on a second sweater, a thick knitted one, and made up my mind. Soup. A warm, hearty bowl of soup was what I needed.

Heading to the kitchen, I pulled out a pot, along with whatever vegetables I could scavenge from the fridge and pantry. Jane called it ‘kitchen sink soup’, and it was my specialty. I cranked the heat on my ancient stovetop at high as it would go, then meandered over to my desk. The soup would take forever to start boiling, and I figured I may as well get some work done while I was waiting.

My computer woke with a low groan, and I opened a blank google docs page. I stared at the blinking cursor as my mind stumbled over what to write. Jane had asked me to write a memory of her and Charlie for their engagement album (I know, right?) ages ago. I mentally scrolled through times the three of us had spent together, trying to find one both funny and heartwarming.

A knock on the door startled me out of my thoughts. Who could that be? Peeking through the peephole, my breath caught in my throat.

“Good evening, Elizabeth,” he greeted me with a cheerful smile.

“...Hi William.” I stared at him as I struggled to get my brain working again. Why was he here? Why did his smile have to have such an effect on me? Why did I have to fall in love with a man who must hate the very sight of me?

He glanced past me into my tiny apartment, then ran his eyes over me. I blushed as he took in my sweatpants, oversized sweater, and the fluffy bunny slippers, complete with ears, that had been a gag gift from Lydia. A crease appeared between his dark brows. “Did I get the day wrong?”

“D-day?” I stammered, then realised he was still standing in the musty hallway. “Sorry, come in.” 

“Pizza and a movie with Charlie and Jane…?”

“Oh, um…” I had no idea what he was talking about. As far as I knew, Jane and Charlie had other plans for the night, although I vaguely remembered a movie night being discussed a while ago. Had tonight been the chosen night? Could I expect Jand and Charlie and whoever else they had seen fit to invite to descend upon my apartment? No, the idea was ridiculous. If they  _ were _ going to have a movie night, they would have it at Charlie’s or William’s, as they had nice screens and space to hold more than three people at a time. So why was William here in my cramped entryway, holding, I now saw, a bottle of wine, and shifting awkwardly from foot to foot as I stared dumbly at him?

“I must have gotten my dates mixed up,” he said when it became clear I had lost the ability to speak coherently. “I apologise for intruding.”

He was turning toward the door. “No! I, um, I’m making soup. You could - I mean - do you - “ Where had my verbosity disappeared to? William was looking at me strangely; amused, confused, and something I couldn’t read. I took a deep breath and tried again. “You’re welcome to stay for a bowl of soup,” I said carefully. “And if you don’t mind a small screen, I have Netflix on my computer.”

“Hmm, I suppose I might be willing to ruin my eyesight if the soup is good,” he said, mirth dancing in his eyes.

“You won’t taste a finer soup anywhere,” I returned glibly, though I suddenly wasn’t feeling very confident. My culinary abilities were average at best, and my apartment...well, I hadn’t been expecting visitors.

“It seems I have no choice.” Toeing off his shoes, William moved to the couch, settling onto its threadbare cushions without even a twinge of distaste showing. Instead, he looked around with interest - my haphazardly stacked bookshelf, the small coffee table likewise heaped with books, the stack of old mail in an untidy pile on the floor under my desk. This led to a discussion in our comparative literary tastes - he approved of my love of the classics, but preferred thrillers himself, even if they did sometimes make it harder for him to sleep.

Once the initial hurdle of awkwardness had passed, my brain resumed its normal functions, and we spoke comfortably, like old friends. William was intelligent, well-read, and appreciated a good joke. He was a smart, caring boss, the best big brother. There was nothing he wasn’t willing to do for those he loved. If only I had seen past his haughty mask earlier! If I had known in the spring the man he truly was - the best kind of man - then even now I could be in his arms instead of on the opposite end of the couch. I could be familiar with his scent, know what his lips tasted like, be able to bask in the affection that he would surely shower on me.

I dragged my eyes away from his lips - a little on the thin side, but so pleasantly formed, especially when they curved up in a smile - when he jumped up in alarm.

“Oh!” I cried, at the bubbling and sizzling and pungent smell of burning coming from the kitchen area. I had completely forgotten about the soup, which was boiling over in spectacular waves of froth and smoke. After pulling the pot off the burner and flipping the overhead fan onto max, I turned to William, embarrassment colouring my cheeks. “Well, that’s the end of our soup.” I had to speak loudly to be heard over the roaring of the fan. “I don’t have the ingredients to make more.”

“I bet you’re just saying that so you can retain your claim that your soup is the best I’ll ever taste.”

I laughed. “I would never admit that even if it were true.” My smile faded as I looked around at the devastation that was my kitchen. “I’m afraid this puts a damper on our evening.” Now was when he would ‘regretfully’ escape, abandoning me to clean my kitchen alone over a PB&J. If I was lucky he’d leave the bottle of wine behind.

“Nonsense! I was told I would be fed pizza - perhaps this is the universe’s way of making sure I get what I was promised. Any toppings you prefer?”

I kept my eyes on the stovetop as I answered, ashamed that I had misjudged him yet again. He was being kind - he could not like being in my company - he must hate me after the angry and hurtful words I had thrown at him like daggers - but he stayed and was friendly anyway, because that’s the kind of guy he was; the kind of guy who was nice even to those who treated him like dirt.

After hanging up with the pizza place - the best pizza in the city, but out of my price range except as a rare treat - William rolled up his sleeves and helped me clean the burnt mess. Our arms or hands would occasionally touch, sending sparks up my skin, and our heads were close together in the small space, it was hard to breathe normally. What a sad wretch I made!

I directed William to choose a movie on my computer as I finished putting away the cleaning supplies and changed my sweater(s), the sleeves of which I had neglected to keep out of the mess. 

When I came out of my bedroom, William was pushing the couch closer to my ancient beast of a computer. “We’ll really need to do this at my place next time,” he said absently as he leaned forward and squinted at the tiny screen.

Next time!? My heart beat a little faster at the thought of the two of us curled up together on William’s couch. But no - he surely meant a movie night with Jane and Charlie, where I was invited as Jane’s sister, not out of any affection her fiance’s best friend might hold for me. Resolutely, I sat on the other end of the couch, despite its distance from the computer.

The pizza arrived a few minutes later, and we grinned at each other as we ate each delicious mouthful and pretended we could see what was happening on the screen. In the near darkness, I watched William more than the movie (but not in a creepy way), the light from the computer creating odd shapes and angles on his face. I wanted to trace those angles with my fingers, feel the warmth of his skin, of his breath.  _ Keep it together _ , I told myself,  _ he doesn’t love you anymore. You’re not one of those girls who dangle after guys who don’t care about them _ . Burrowing my hands further into the blanket I was wrapped in, I determinedly kept my gaze on the computer for the rest of the movie, though when it was over I couldn’t remember what it had been about.

  
  


Life continued on, and I stayed busy with work and friends. I still saw William from time to time, always in the company of Charlie, but as the weeks passed he seemed...withdrawn. He was still friendly, but there was something missing. A warmth, perhaps. He kept his distance from me. It hurt. It was clear that being around me was more than he could tolerate - that even his goodness could only go so far. Crying in my bed one night after an afternoon with Jane and Charlie and William, where William only looked at me once, but with his face set in hard lines, I realised I needed to give him up. Despite my talks with myself, I had been clinging to every particle of attention he gave me, and I needed to stop. I needed to stay away from him. To move on from him.

Unfortunately, this was much harder than I had anticipated. Being the maid of honour and the best man, respectively, meant that William and I were frequently thrown together at Jane and Charlie’s numerous and overdone engagement events (Jane was obviously listening too much to our mother). It was difficult and awkward, but I  _ tried _ to give him space.

“Lizzy,” Jane asked one morning from her perch at Charlie’s enormous dining table, which was covered with binders and papers and fabric swatches, “Did you send me your memory of Charlie and I? I can’t find it.”

Oh.  _ That _ . I shifted uncomfortably in my ultra-comfy white leather armchair. Since that wonderful and painful night with William, I had forgotten all about my dear sister’s request. Had I written something before he had shown up? I couldn’t remember. “Sorry Jane, I’ll do it right away. I promise.”

Jane flashed me a grateful smile, then bent back over her papers, her dark hair falling forward like a curtain.

Pulling up google docs on my phone, I was scanning through the files, when I saw one I didn’t recognise. It was untitled, from nearly two months ago, and shared with an email address I couldn’t immediately place. Curious, I opened it.

_ Dearest Elizabeth, _

_ Forgive my presumption, but I saw this file open on your computer, and, as unlikely as it may seem, acted on impulse. What I have been unable to summon the courage to ask you in person I now ask you by the written word: do you still feel the same way about me you did last spring? If so, read no further, delete this document, and I will never trouble you again. But if not - Elizabeth, dare I to believe that your behavior toward me has been encouraging? That you are acting, not out of kindness and friendship, but something more? I love you, Elizabeth, even more than I thought possible when I declared myself to you at Hunsford. If there is any possibility that you could someday return my feelings, please find a way to let me know my affections are not unwanted. _

_ I wait, and hope. _

_ Yours, _

_ William Darcy _

I read it through again, and then a third time, colour rising into my cheeks. He loved me! But why tell me in such a way? Why risk our future on the chance I would stumble across it? For I could see that it was  _ my _ document that he had taken the liberty of sharing with himself, so I didn’t even receive a notification that it had been opened.

I raised my eyes, meeting his from where he sat across the room, computer on his knees. He loved me! But - “You idiot!” I cried, jumping to my feet. Charlie and Jane paused in their planning, watching us with worried frowns. I barely noticed them. William also stood, carefully putting his laptop on a side table, a confused wrinkle on his forehead. “Idiot!” I repeated, in case he didn’t hear it the first time. “ _ Google docs _ , William, really!?”

He blanched. “You’ve only read it just now?”

“Yes!” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to punch him in the nose or kiss him. “What were you thinking!?”

“I…” he swallowed visibly. “I acted on impulse. I apologise if my words offended you.”

“You apologise! Did you not mean them?” 

“Er, yes, but -” 

I stomped across the too white room with quick strides. William flinched back as I reached him, but I continued forward, until we were only a breath apart, and I could stand on my toes and press my lips to his. He froze against me for an instant - an age - then his arms went around me, pulling me closer as he kissed me back.

It was the kind of monumental kiss that inspires love songs, that changes lives. I was pretty sure I could hear an angelic choir singing. While it wasn’t perfect in terms of technique, at his touch I felt such passion, such a sense of rightness and belonging that I never wanted to leave his arms again. Now I knew what he smelled like (shaving cream and something spicy), what he tasted like (onions, unfortunately, from the bruschetta we’d eaten earlier), what he  _ felt _ like - home.

Eventually we came up for air, grinning like idiots at each other, and became aware of Charlie whistling and clapping while Jane smiled happily. “Well done, old boy!” Charlie congratulated, “It’s about time you two got over yourselves and got together. Jane and I have had a time finding ways to make it happen, haven’t we, babe?”

Jane rolled her eyes but didn’t contradict him. “Let’s give them some space. They don’t need an audience while they make out.” She winked at me, and I felt my cheeks heat.

“No, no, we’ll go,” I blurted. “You’re already set up here.” I gestured at the table.

It wasn’t until we got outside that I remembered it was winter, and a cold one at that. I shivered as we walked slowly away from the house, no particular destination in mind as long as it meant we were out of view of Jane and Charlie’s knowing smiles.

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth,” he said once we were out of sight of the house. His nose and ears were already red in the chill air, and the wind tousled his hair. It was a good look on him. “Declaring myself that way - it was ill-judged. Spontaneity has never been my forte.”

“No,” I squeezed his hand, “but if we’re going to compare faults, let’s not forget my harsh judgements of your entire character based on a handful of brief interactions. I’m so ashamed of what I said - of what I felt - back then. I was wrong on every count.” I huffed a breath, watching it hang in the air for a moment before the wind snatched it away. “You are everything a man ought to be: generous, sincere, thoughtful. And I -” I looked up at him, noticing the veins of gold that wove through the brown of his eyes. “- I love you.”

William’s eyes widened in surprise, then a smile, broad and bright, stretched across his cheeks. “And I love you,” he said softly as his fingers came up to brush across my cheek. “You’re cold.”

I laughed. “Remarkable observation skills, there, William. Would you like to comment on the colour of the sky next?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled back at me. “I wouldn’t dare.” Pulling me closer, he added with a raised eyebrow, “However, I do have some ideas on how to warm you up.” 

“Mm I like the sound of that.” I felt the curve of his smile against my lips as we came together, and soon proved him right - I was very warm indeed.


End file.
